sick day
by ulstergirl
Summary: Nancy can be kind of pitiful when she's sick, but that's okay with Ned.


**This story has some vaguely grown-up content, but nothing too intense. Hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

 _Hey babe. Hope you're feeling better. I'd like to come see you but if you're resting/not up to it, I understand. jlmk._

Nancy was on the couch, her arm over her eyes. All of her hurt, and she was shivering with chills. Her throat, her entire head, the inside of her chest... everything hurt. She had forced herself to go to work that morning, which had been a mistake. Her boss had pretty much insisted that she go home at lunch and not come back until she was feeling human again. Her throat hurt so much that nothing sounded appetizing, but her stomach kept making grumbling, moaning noises anyway.

She had slept a little. She had turned the television down because just the sound of it had been enough to hurt her ears. But she just hadn't been able to get up off the couch ever since she had collapsed onto it. Under the quilt, her skirt was twisted up, undoubtedly crumpled into wrinkles that wouldn't easily come out. She hadn't been able to bear the thought of anything near her neck, so her shirt was unbuttoned down to her collarbone.

She slowly typed out her response, deleting mistakes with small impatient noises. _Don't want you to get sick._

 _Don't care. Can I please come see you?_

After a coughing jag that left her eyes watering and her throat on fire, she was able to look at her phone again. _You shouldn't. I'm a wreck. But if you insist..._

 _I'll see you soon. Love you._

She smiled, then put her phone down and draped her arm over her blessedly closed eyes again.

Her fiancé did love her, and she loved him. Next summer they would be married.

A few people had asked why she and Ned didn't already live together. They could learn how to share the same space and share their lives. But Nancy kept irregular hours, and Ned worked a nine-to-five; she liked being strong and independent, and keeping her own space. Oh, she spent a lot of time at Ned's apartment, so much that her own was starting to feel slightly strange to her... but at least she could stay here while she was sick, so she didn't infect Ned.

But he was coming over anyway.

Early in their relationship, she would have immediately forced herself to tidy up the apartment, to sweep up the pile of tissues on the coffee table, to clear the discarded coffee mugs from the kitchen counter. But she was just so exhausted that all she could manage to do was sit up.

Ned had a key to her apartment. When he walked in, she moaned softly and struggled to raise her head. "Oh, honey," he murmured. "Shh, just relax. Still feeling pretty bad, huh."

"Yeah." She stifled a cough, grimacing.

"Have you had anything to eat?"

She shook her head. Her throat hurt whenever she spoke. Or breathed.

"I brought some of Mom's soup. Do you want me to heat some up?"

She nodded slowly. Even that movement made her hurt. She slumped back down and curled up in a ball.

Ned brought her a warm bowl of soup a few minutes later. She struggled back up, and Ned rubbed her back in sympathy.

"How was your day?" she croaked out. "Thank you."

He gave her a crooked smile. "You know I have to take any chance I have to take care of you," he told her. "It happens so rarely. Um... my day was fine, but I was sorry you were sick. I love when the leaves are crunching under my boots like they were today..."

She nodded, then closed her eyes as she took a hesitant first spoon of the soup. Ned's mother didn't have a specific favorite soup recipe; she made infinite variations on vegetable beef soup, on thick Mexican stews with shredded beef or chicken, on chili. They all tasted great, and this was no different.

Ned's voice was soothing, and she was grateful for the meal. Even though every swallow hurt her throat, the warmth felt good. She tipped back the bowl to finish it off, and then Ned took it and put it on the coffee table as she released a pleased sigh. Then she groaned a little because that made her throat hurt.

"Poor Nan," Ned murmured, and she nearly rested her head against his shoulder before thinking twice about it. She would almost certainly make him sick if she did that. She definitely didn't want to make him this miserable. "How was the soup?"

"Really good," she whispered, then grimaced. Even whispering made her throat hurt. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey. Do you want me to do anything for you? I can clean up, or help you get to bed..."

 _Clean up._ Nancy smiled faintly. She made a vague gesture at the coffee table.

"All right. Tidy up it is."

She tried to stay awake, because Ned made comments, but she found herself drifting off again. Now that Ned was here, now that her belly was full, she just wanted to sleep and wake up feeling better.

She woke again when Ned was preparing to gently lift her off the couch. "I thought I'd take you to bed," he murmured. "If that's okay."

She nodded, wanting to protest but lacking the heart. She nestled against Ned during that too-brief time he was cuddling her to his chest. Once he put her down on her bed, she struggled to her feet and staggered to the bathroom to brush her teeth and scrub off her makeup, and even that made her head throb. Her teeth chattered when she splashed water on her face.

Ned was standing in the doorway to her bedroom when she returned. "Have you taken any aspirin or anything? Do you need some water?"

Nancy shivered. "Can't remember," she whispered. "Probably need some more."

Ned vanished for a moment, and Nancy slowly began to unbutton her shirt, but the room felt so cold. She started to shiver.

He came back with the bottle of medicine and a glass of water. She actually found herself blushing, and chided herself; it wasn't like Ned hadn't seen her this way many times. But she definitely felt a lot more vulnerable than she normally did, even around him.

"Here. I can help," he suggested.

And that made her blush again, a little. She couldn't help it, though; she almost purred when his warm palms came into contact with her flesh. She was shivering as he helped her out of her clothes. When she pointed mutely at the dresser drawer where she kept her pajamas, he crossed to it and realized what she wanted. He showed her an oversized short-sleeved Emerson t-shirt she had borrowed from him a long time ago and never returned, but she shook her head. Then he found a long-sleeved henley, and she nodded, rubbing her arms. As soon as she could, she scrambled under the covers, still trembling. Her teeth were still chattering.

Ned came to her side. "Don't forget to take your medicine," he told her.

She nodded.

He paused. "Are you cold?"

She nodded again.

"I could get you another blanket. Or... warm you up myself."

Her eyes were closed, but she smiled at the almost bashful tone in his voice. "No sex."

"Of course not," he replied. Now he sounded almost affronted.

"You'll... get sick," she managed to say. Her voice sounded hoarse, and she didn't think she had ever sounded less sexy.

"I don't care. Do you want me to stay with you?"

She paused for too long. He had to know her resolve was wavering. "Yeah," she whispered.

He joined her in bed a few minutes later. Her head was pounding, her throat was on fire, and the sheets were freezing. She just couldn't get warm. Then he spooned up behind her and draped his arm over her, and she sighed. She really, really didn't want to move. All of her ached. But now, she felt almost comfortable. She patted his hand gently.

He kissed the back of her head. Her hair had been a mess before she had reluctantly brushed it a few times. She felt like a miserable mess, but Ned still wanted to stay with her.

Suddenly she couldn't wait for the day she and Ned truly were living together.

"Love you, baby."

"Love you," she whispered, closing her eyes, her hand still over his.


End file.
